Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery)

by Lipperman, Liz

  “Didn’t that make you a fifth wheel? Or did you have something kinky going on with Marco and Kate?” She knew that was reaching, but she was worried they were already too close to wherever Jeff was taking her. He’d mentioned before leaving the hotel that Carlita had said Ginny was ten miles outside of Plainville. Since they’d already driven at least that far, she racked her brain for a way to buy more time.

  “Not with Kate. There was something going on between Marco and me, but it’s not what you’re implying.” He slowed down when they came to a pasture enclosed by a four-foot wire fence, and Jordan reached for the door, only to find it locked. “You don’t think I’d be that stupid now, do you” He reached under his seat and produced a large automatic weapon. “It’s amazing what you can buy on any street corner these days.”

  Jordan decided if she could keep him talking, maybe somehow, she could escape. “Then why were you upstairs that night?”

  He cut the ignition and pointed the gun at her head. “I’ve been Emilio’s trusted friend and counsel ever since I graduated from Harvard, and my daddy held the position before that. Marco only came into Emilio’s life last year, and all of a sudden, he’s the Golden Boy.” Jeff’s voice crackled with resentment. “Emilio even changed his will last month to give Marco total control of his company when he dies.”

  “I know,” Jordan said. “That must’ve made you furious.”

  “Furious is not the word I’d use. More like thoroughly pissed off. I was the one who gave up a social life to be at Emilio’s beck and call for all those years.” He eyed her suspiciously. “And how would you know about his will?”

  “He told me,” she said after Jeff pulled over to the side of the road. “I also know he’s dying.”

  “Yeah, that’s a bummer. When I first heard, I thought it was finally my big chance. For the first time in my life, I thought this would be an accomplishment that would make my father proud. Unfortunately, he’s wasting away in a nursing home with dementia and will probably never know about my success.” He shoved the keys into his pocket and pointed the gun on her once again. “Now get out.”

  She stole a quick peek at the pasture hoping to see a farmhouse, but there was only flatland for as far back as she could see. After he unlocked the door and got out himself, she relocked her door and grabbed her purse off the floor.

  In a flash, he unlocked it with his keys, pulled it open, and wretched the purse from her hands. “Oh no, you don’t. I’ll need this today when I move your car to a shady part of town to make it look like you were robbed.” His eyes hardened. “Now get out before I have to get physical.”

  With no other option available, she slid her legs out of the car and stood facing him. If she had any aspirations of taking him on, the way his six-two frame loomed over her killed that idea. That and the gun in his hand. She turned her head both ways, searching for an escape route, but all she saw was the gravel road.

  Since she wouldn’t be able to outrun his car, she tried reasoning with him instead. “You really don’t have to do this, Jeff. Right now, you’re only looking at Marco’s murder.” Conveniently, she’d left out the part about him killing Ginny Bruno as well.

  This time he threw his head back and laughed out loud. “Apparently, I gave you more credit in the smarts department than you deserve.” He pointed to the hood of the car. “Climb up there.”

  A flash of terror gripped her. “Why? So you can pick me off like I was an animal?”

  His grin faded. “I’m trying to help you out. Now get up there before you piss me off.”

  She had no idea what he intended to do, but right now, keeping him talking might buy some time. “So you went upstairs intending to kill Marco, clearing the way for you to move into the number one spot with Emilio?”

  “Hell no. I didn’t want him dead. I only wanted to discredit him in Emilio’s eyes. I went up there to use his computer to sabotage the liquor shipment for the festival. I knew that would upset Emilio more than anything. I also knew about his affair with Kate—and about a half dozen other women. I thought for sure when things hit the fan at the party with him and Tina, Emilio would think twice about handing over his daughter—and his company—to a man like that.

  “I was prepared to marry the woman myself, even though she’s not my type. I like my women to turn heads and use her brains for something other than what’s on sale at Sak’s.” He let his eyes roam up and down her body. “Under different circumstances, you and I might have hit it off.”

  The thought revolted her but she plunged right in. “But you were wrong. In a twisted sort of way, Emilio thought Marco would eventually make a good husband for his daughter. In the meantime, not only would his company get a CEO with astute business sense, but Marco’s very prosperous holdings in his own family businesses would become part of the Calabrese empire.”

  She paused to see how Jeff would react to that and was pleased to see she’d hit a nerve. She’d learned a long time ago in her journalism classes that an angry man made mistakes. She might be able to use that to her advantage since time was running out for her.

  She decided to try a different technique. “So were you in the room when Kate and Marco had the fight?”

  “I’d just finished sending the liquor shipment to the wrong address when I heard Marco come into the room. Quickly, I ran out on the patio with his laptop and hid behind a huge plant. I needn’t have bothered because he was so drunk—and high, according to the coroner—that he probably wouldn’t have noticed me anyhow. When Kate came in, I had to stand by silently while he assaulted her. Although it only pissed me off more, I still had no intentions of killing him.” He shoved her against the car.

  Anxiety formed a hard knot in her stomach. She had to find a way to escape. Frantically, she looked around for something—anything to use as a weapon and screamed when she felt the cold steel of the gun pressing into her back. Using the tire for a step, she was able to lift herself up until she was standing on the hood of the car.

  “Jump,” he commanded.

  “First tell me why you killed him.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m the one calling the shots here.”

  She decided goading him might buy her more time. “I get it now. You were jealous because Marco was so much more successful that you. The only way to make yourself look good was to get him out of the way.”

  The hate in his eyes was not lost on Jordan and for a minute she thought she had gone too far. Then he sighed. “I never meant to kill the man, but when Kate went into the bathroom, Marco came out on the patio and spotted me behind the planter. He screamed that when he told Emilio, I would be tossed on my ass—or worse. I guess I lost it. Slammed the back of his head with the laptop.” He snorted. “Don’t you think it’s kind of ironic that he bit the dust with his own computer, which, by the way, contained all sorts of kiddie porn.” His face grew angry again. “Now jump, Jordan. We’ve wasted enough time.”

  “Carlita Bruno will tell the cops you and I came out to get Ginny?”

  “Maybe I really was wrong about you. Maybe you are just a pretty face.” He smirked. “Do you seriously think I was talking to someone back at the hotel?”

  “What makes you think our bodies won’t be discovered out here? Sooner or later, the farmer who owns this land will venture out this way. Then your little plan will be shot to hell.”

  She stared out into the pasture, thinking if he left her here in this hot desolate field to die, just like he’d done to Ginny, she might be able to climb back over the fence and walk back down the gravel road for help.

  As if he’d read her mind, he grinned. “That wire fence may look harmless, but trust me when I tell you that it carries a five thousand volt charge. You might want to stay clear of it unless you want the jolt of your life.”

  “I’m still confused about why Ginny would go willingly with you that day, especially if she remembered seeing you go up the stairs that night.”

  An evil grin crossed his f
ace. “I told her that Emilio wanted to sit down with her to talk about operating a side business selling her Italian food and shipping it all over the country.” He tsked. “The stupid woman would have gone with the Boston Strangler if she thought she’d make money doing it.”

  Poor Ginny! Her taste in men as well as her judgment in character left a lot to be desired. But she hadn’t deserved the fate she’d received.

  Jeff waved the gun in front of her again. “You have three seconds to jump before I use this.” He chuckled once again before firing the gun, narrowly missing her.

  Quickly, she jumped, landing on the hard ground and rolling several times before coming to a stop.

  “Sorry, I don’t have any sunscreen. Have fun out here, though, and say hello to my black friend,” he said, before getting into his car, making a U-turn, and then speeding back down the road.

  She watched until he was out of sight, staring until the dust clouds left by his car had disappeared. Then she tried to stand up, hoping she hadn’t broken an ankle—or worse. Satisfied that she was only sore, she reached into her back pocket for Kate’s phone, saying a silent prayer of thanks that Jeff hadn’t noticed it back there.

  She turned it on, but there were no bars, and she walked farther out into the pasture, hoping to pick up a signal, even a weak one. There was none. Desperate, she ran about three hundred more yards and stopped close to a tree near the outer perimeter, but again, no signal.

  Feeling totally defeated, she said a quick prayer to St. Jude, who had always helped her before when things looked hopeless. Swiping at the perspiration that now covered her forehead, she wished she hadn’t worn jeans. And as long as she was wishing, a bottle of icy cold water was right up there at the top of the list.

  She walked toward the tree, thinking at least she’d be out of the grueling Texas sun. With no clouds in the sky and an open field, the temperature had to be in the high nineties.

  As she approached the tree, she noticed something leaning against it. For a minute, she thought it was an animal until she saw what looked like a hand waving to her. When she was closer, she was able to make out the figure of a small woman and squealed with relief as she realized it was Ginny Bruno. Picking up her pace until she was in a dead run, she raced toward her.

  Tears filled her eyes when Ginny looked up and tried to smile. Her face was bright red and blistered in spots, and her lips were so chapped, she could barely open them. But somehow, she was able to speak. “I prayed that someone would find me.”

  “Ginny, it’s Jordan. I’m the culinary reporter from the local newspaper who was doing a story on you and your sister. Do you remember?”

  Ginny tried to answer, but she was too weak.

  “Save your energy. We’ve got to find a way to get out of here,” Jordan said, glancing in the direction of the gate.

  “Don’t go near the fence,” Ginny said. “It’s—”

  “I know,” Jordan replied “I’m going to see if I can climb over the gate down there. Although it’s pretty high, I’m hoping it isn’t charged like the rest of the fence.”

  “Okay, but hurry. I haven’t had food for three days, and as disgusting as it sounds, I’ve survived by drinking the water from the stock pond.” She pointed to the body of water halfway between the tree and the herd of cattle grazing down the pasture.

  Jordan couldn’t help it and wrinkled her nose at the thought of drinking that water. But Ginny wouldn’t have made it two days in the Texas heat without it. “Stay put. I have a phone, but I’m not getting a signal. Maybe once I get on the other side of the fence, I’ll be able to make the call that will bring help to us.”

  Just then Jordan was distracted by what sounded like a herd of cattle running. She looked up to see a large animal coming toward them at a fast clip from the area where she’d noticed the cows earlier. It approached slowly and stopped about a hundred yards away, snorting and pawing at the ground. A surge of panic hit her as she realized it was the black friend Jeff had mentioned.

  When it inched closer, she found herself staring straight into the ominous black eyes of the biggest bull she’d ever seen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Don’t move.” Jordan looked both ways for something she could use as a weapon. There were only a few branches, none big enough to provide protection.

  “I’ve been hiding from him since the first day, climbing up the tree when I was still able to.” Her lips quivered. “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?

  When she attempted to get up, Jordan reached out and stopped her. “If he thinks we’re a threat to him or his herd of cows, he’ll charge.”

  Even as she said it, the memory of one unfortunate cowboy from the Amarillo Rodeo came to mind. He’d been gored so badly that he had to have multiple surgeries to repair the damage. The only reason the man was still alive was because the clowns had distracted the bull long enough for the paramedics to load him on a stretcher and get him out of the ring.

  She and Ginny could use a few clowns right now.

  “We shouldn’t run?”

  “No. Despite their size, bulls are fast, and he’ll outrun us.” Jordan stopped before adding what would happen when he did. “Be still,” she reminded Ginny again, keeping her eyes trained on the large animal, which was now staring intently at her and rubbing his head in the ground he’d turned up with his hoof.

  She knew from growing up in West Texas, known for its prosperous cattle industry, that this was a danger sign, that the bull was getting ready to charge.

  “What are we going to do if he attacks?” Ginny asked, barely able to get the words out. “I don’t want to die at the hands of an animal.”

  “Shh,” Jordan whispered. “I’m hoping he’ll see that we’re not a threat and go back to his herd.” She swallowed hard, almost mesmerized by the bull’s eyes, black with only a touch of white showing.

  As if on cue, the animal began to snort, a low terrifying growl sound that meant he had no intentions of going back to the other side of the pasture. At least not until he got rid of the threat—namely them.

  Then he lowered his head and stepped closer, snot blowing from his nose, another sign of imminent attack. Jordan drew in a sharp breath to stifle her scream. With her heart hammering in her chest, she prepared for the onslaught, ready to shout, hoping the noise might slow him down, at least momentarily.

  Just as the animal took another menacing step toward them, she took another deep breath and opened her mouth to squeal at the top of her lungs. But before she could make a sound, a wolf-like animal appeared out of nowhere on the other side of the fence, attracting the bull’s attention with his ferocious barking.

  In a flash, the animal slid under the lowest wire, yelping when he received the jolt. Once inside the pasture he raced toward them, and Jordan found herself wondering which was worse—getting eaten by a wolf or gored to death by a bull. When he closed in on them, Jordan saw that it was only a white Pyrenees with one black paw in front as he ran right past them and stopped close to the bull, challenging him.

  Distracted by the dog, the bull turned toward him and pawed the ground with his hoof, just like he’d done minutes before at the two women. Jordan closed her eyes, not wanting to see the dog killed by the much bigger bovine. When she opened them, she was surprised to see the smaller animal zigzagging across the pasture in a race for his life.

  Both Jordan and Ginny watched in total amazement as the dog led the bull toward the other cows and away from the tree. When the bull came to the area where the herd was grazing, he stopped and positioned himself in front of them, as if he were standing guard.

  The dog stopped about two hundred yards away and lay on the ground, almost daring the bull to come and get him. After a few minutes of staring the bull down, the dog turned and made his way back to the tree. When he approached them, Ginny cried out, and Jordan grabbed her hand. Thoughts of the dog now turning on them were quickly dispelled as the animal trotted closer, wagging his tail.

  When h
e was directly in front of them, he tilted his head, looked at her, and sat down. Cautiously, Jordan reached out and touched his head. When he seemed to like it, she began to run her hands down the length of his body. After he plopped down in front of her, she went to a full-out ear scratching, loving the way he continued to glare at the bovine herd as if daring them to come across to his side of the pasture.

  Jordan continued to pet him, feeling the matted fur with her fingers. Although he didn’t have a collar on, he was too healthy looking, except for the matted coat, to be a stray.

  With the bull crisis diverted, at least for the time being, Jordan looked toward the gate. There was no way Ginny could walk, and even less chance of Jordan being able to carry her. She decided their best shot was to wait until dark, make a run for the gate, and hope the bull didn’t have night vision.

  Hours passed, as they waited for the sun to set and with it, a more tolerable temperature. Jordan was now soaked with sweat. When she looked over at Ginny and noticed that she wasn’t sweating at all, Jordan started to worry. In fact Ginny was staring straight ahead and her eyes seemed almost lifeless now, making Jordan wonder how much longer the woman could make it in this heat without clean water or food. “How are you doing?”

  After a long pause, “I was just thinking about all the people in my life that I loved but never told,” she said sadly.

  “You’ll get that opportunity. It’s getting dark, and I’ll be able to run for help.”

  “I haven’t spoken to my best friend in over two years because of a fight over something so minor I can’t even remember what it was. And then there’s the preacher’s wife.” She continued talking as if she hadn’t heard what Jordan had just said. “I’ve been mad at her for months, too, over some stupid thing.”

  Jordan reached over and pulled her closer. “Ginny, listen to me. You can’t get morbid now. You’re a fighter. I need you to think positive. Someone will come looking for us. I promise.”

  Even as she said it, she knew she could offer nothing to back it up. There would probably be a manhunt for her, but no one would suspect Jeff Hamilton or search way out in the country. Their only hope was if she could find help or if a rancher wandered out their way to check on things.